


Time Stands Still

by MossPrinx



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Inquisitor Died in Haven, Modern Girl in Thedas, Multi, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2018-09-25 17:09:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9832277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MossPrinx/pseuds/MossPrinx
Summary: Moments in time with unwitting Inquisitors, Devi and Charlie. Bits and pieces not in the original fic "Of Templars and Travelers" by kingcaboodle.





	1. Winter Palace (Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kingcaboodle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingcaboodle/gifts).



> Chapters are posted in no particular order!

        Josephine was going to have a heart attack by the end of the evening. Her Inquisitors knew little of the world and it’s cultures and, despite all the studying they put in, knew even less of the intricacies that was Orlais. Even with all her faith in them and the incredible things they’ve achieved as outsiders, she knew The Game, and she knew it cared little for good hearts and kind souls.

        “Josephine.” 

        Looking over her shoulder, she spotted one of the women of the hour. Charlie stood tall behind her, her mask in hand. Josephine was frankly astonished by the work she and her partner had put into designing their gowns for the night. Neither seemed the type to care about that kind of thing, but it seemed to be quite the opposite, especially if the end results said anything. 

        Charlie’s red dress clung to her lithe frame nicely, not enough to be constricting, flaring out at the knees to flow gracefully to the floor. The gold plating came out even better than anticipated - Josie would thank Krem for the idea when she saw him next.

        “Mistress Cowden?” She tried not to sound exasperated before the event even began, but her voice betrayed her. Coming up beside her, Charlie placed a comforting hand in the middle of her back, smiling warmly at her before looking back out at the crowd. 

        “Josephine, everything will be fine. We’ve been practicing for weeks now,” She drawled, and the ambassador relaxed just a little. Before she could agree with her, a little commotion in the gardens caught her attention.

        “I wish I could agree with you,” she sighed. “But- well, look.”

        Charlie followed her gaze and Josephine choked back a laugh at the look of horror that crossed her face.

        The other half of the pair that made up the leaders of the Inquisition, Devi Suri, was doing some sort of...jig, pumping her arms and bouncing her knees as both companions and guests alike looked on in a mixture of amusement and annoyance. 

        Hiding her smile behind her hand, Josephine watched Charlie sprint as fast as she could in her heels to correct the situation. Devi laughed as her onlookers tried to walk off inconspicuously, beaming up at former prisoner Samson as he patted her hair gently so not to mess it up. Despite her “gremlin-like” personality, as Charlie called it, Devi cleaned up quite nice for the Winter Palace. Her usually unruly hair was brushed and coiffed (usually reminiscent of Krem’s, he slicked his back to avoid any matching fashion drama), her body wrapped in fine silks and lace that reminded her of home. A sari, she believed Devi called it, and a beautiful one at that. Her feet were bare, anklets jingling when she moved - Josephine wanted to argue, but that was obviously important to her, so she didn't put up much of a fight. Like Charlie, her dress was accented by gold plating - a reminder of who exactly she is and what she’s there for. 

        “Mistress Suri, you  _ promised _ -” Josie chided, faltering when the shorter woman flinched at her tone. She started again, softer. “You promised you wouldn’t make a scene.

        But...it seems your audience quite enjoyed your little dance, so I cannot be mad. For now.” Devi’s smile was infectious when she beamed up at her adviser, and Josephine didn’t miss the warm look in Samson’s eyes as he looked down at the younger inquisitor. Shaking her head, she let them be.

 

       Things were in the Inquisition’s favor, impossibly so. A hole was torn in the sky, unleashing all sorts of horror upon the world, and they manage to find the one man able to fix it. He could have been a terror, some criminal who landed himself in the perfect position, but he turned out to be one of the most kind and generous people Josephine had ever had the honor of working with, even if it was not for long. When they...lost him, two women who claim to be from  _ another world _ pop up, with an instrument used to close rifts - things they thought only the Herald capable of. Despite all their faults, they were  _ also  _ two kind and generous women, willing to save something they hold no attachments to if only because it’s the right thing to do.

       But those faults were still, well... _ faults. _ For all her diplomacy, Charlie lost interest easily, and struggled to sit through meetings a the war table. Despite her couldn’t-care-less exterior, Josephine had more than an inkling of a feeling that she was quicker to anger than she let on, and often quit before she got ahead. Devi, for all her outbursts and hyperactivity, was a genius - there was no denying her skill when she applied herself. But she was impulsive and hotheaded, often rushing headlong into danger and cementing herself into her judgments until something somehow change her mind. Stubborn til end, this often lead to a lot of clashes, especially with Cullen.

       Josephine watched the women from the steps. A woman had stopped them, frantically searching for a ring she dropped. Almost immediately, the two women leapt into action - Charlie consoling the woman before joining Devi, who had dropped to the floor to find it before the woman even finished speaking. She found it by a lion carving, shouting triumphantly as she hustled back to the masked woman. Charlie laughed good-naturedly as she praised them, both wishing her a nice evening as she went off to find who she came with. 

       For all their faults, they made a genuine effort to be people everyone looked up to willingly, not because they have to. They give everything for a world not their own, people not their own, and for an enemy they could have avoided. There is nothing saying leading the Inquisition will send them back.

       “Josie!” Devi beamed at her while Charlie and the rest of their companions followed behind her, and Josephine felt the tension building up in her chest lighten. “Did you see that? ‘ _ Maybe they’re not so bad _ ;’ that’s what she said!”

       Maybe the evening won’t be so bad after all.


	2. Peace Talks (Winter Palace Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samson's been thinkin'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how to write Samson,,, OTL

     The peace talks at the Winter Palace were, for all intents and purposes, a fucking mess. Elitism, the deaths of innocent elves, failed assassinations on both the Inquisitors and Empress Celene, and other ridiculous attempts at formality were seriously wearing Samson down. Feeling a migraine coming on, he pinched the bridge of his nose as he watched Florianne make a scene while guards escorted her off the premises. 

     Looking around, he tried to spy the smaller Inquisitor amongst the sea of people below him. Though she was easily engulfed by the crowd, he easily spotted the red of her sari, twisting with her body as she was pulled into another dance. He didn’t want to acknowledge the way his heart twinged when he saw her partner - tan skin and nice hair and an even nicer smile, certainly not an old man who was trying to kill her not too long ago. His sigh was heavy, his heart heavier.

     Slender arms wrapped around his waist, a chin propping itself on his shoulder as he looked on. In any other circumstance, he’d have immediately been on the offensive, but he knew only one person willing to get that close.

     “Cowden,” He said plainly, feeling the vibrations on his shoulder when she hummed in reply. “Are you drunk?”

     Her laugh was light and tinkling, not at all like her usual stoic tone. “Just a tad. What’re you up to?”

     “I’m currently being hit on by a drunk young lady, so nothing out of the ordinary.”

     “I’m not that drunk.”

     “You wound me.”

     Charlie’s shoulders shook with laughter as she detached herself from him, joining him to lean on the railing overlooking the ballroom. Her eyes landed on Devi just as quick as his did, and she turned to raise an accusatory eyebrow at him.

     “The...the genlock looks like she’s having fun,” was Samson’s attempt at drawing her attention anywhere but him - her dark eyes felt as though they were boring through him sometimes, and sometimes he worried about the things she’d find if she looked hard enough. Not that it mattered. The older Inquisitor’s mouth twisted in a way that he’d come to understand meant she was unimpressed or unbelieving; he was caught in his lie before he’d even finished it.

     “Raleigh.” Uh oh. “Forgive the bluntness, but...aren’t you a little too old for this? Pining from the sidelines, ‘she’ll be happier with him,’ so on and so forth?”

     “Excuse me, Cowden?” Samson was taken aback, moving away from the railing to meet her gaze. She held fast, unwavering.

     “Excused. How about this then? Devi is not a child. She’s an adult who’s gone through pain and hardship and you  _ know  _ that, you’ve seen her struggle first hand, so why don’t we stop pretending that’s all this is about.”

     Samson didn’t know what to say. She hit the nail right on the head and she  _ knew  _ it. Huffing indignantly, he rubbed the back of his neck - suddenly sheepish. Leaning back onto the railing, he found he couldn’t look her in the eyes anymore; part of him wished she’d kept that damn mask on.

     “I’m not a good man, Charlie,” He said out into the crowd, finding Devi even quicker the second time. The way she twirled across the dancefloor, all big smiles and loud laughter, made his lips twitch upward into a fond smile. “I’ve...fucked up. Quite a bit, as you know. She deserves someone she can love with good conscious, not a man who tried to help  _ bring about a blight _ .”

     Charlie shrugged, grunting in response. “Nobody’s perfect.”

     Neither of them said anything for a while after that, instead watching the party unfold beneath them. It wasn’t as awkward as he’d anticipated, reminiscent of their quiet time in the Skyhold gardens - in the face of all the discord that came with just being in Orlais, a peaceful moment with a friend was much appreciated. If only for a moment, he could hear his thoughts, and they weren’t something he quite felt like drowning out anymore. He hadn’t drank too much, but he’d blame it on the liquor anyways.

     “There you are. Sneaking around with your boyfriend, I see?” It was the mage from Tevinter who happened upon them, cracking jokes before he even said hello. Samson couldn’t say he minded too much.

    Charlie let out a huff of a laugh, shaking her head. Mischief tinkling in her eye, she teased back. “ _ Oh no…! _ It seems I’ve been caught with my skirts down. Don’t tell Krem, whatever you do.”

    Dorian barked a laugh, walking up and throwing an arm around her shoulders unceremoniously. “I’ve been sent to fetch you by our dearest ambassador. Leliana was there too, and I doubt you’d like to keep her waiting. You loving your life and all that.”

    “Alright, alright, alright,” Charlie swatted the man off her, an obvious smile betraying her harsh tone. “Give me a minute, I need to sneak in some parting affection.”

     Samson could have sworn he saw the man shiver in repulsion. Rude. The look was quickly masked with a smug grin and a wink. “I’ll give you two your space, then.”

     With Dorian out of earshot, Charlie whispered some parting words before knocking him in the arm and leaving with her companion. He’d stay just as she left him for a while, ruminating on it.

     “You’re not as bad as you make yourself out to be,” she’d said, sincere. “At least, not anymore. But I’m not the one who needs to be telling you this, am I?”

     Looking back down to the ballroom, he could make out Devi searching for something - someone? Their eyes met when she looked to his secluded balcony, and the grin that split her face set his heart aflame. Her eyes kept his as she made for the door, and it was only once she made it out of sight that he straightened up.

     Maybe he  _ was  _ too old for this. The least he could do was meet her halfway.

     So he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got one word for the next chapter:   
> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	3. Less Talking (Winter Palace part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samson and Devi get to talking.  
> ...Amongst other things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a doozy to write, almost 5000 words! Anyways, this is the last of the Winter Palace drabbles, we're moving onward and upward!

     She looked just as beautiful up close as she did working her way across the ballroom. Samson watched her turn the corner, chuckling deeply when she ran right into his chest. When she didn't move, her forehead resting upon his heart, he pulled her back; he was afraid she'd feel how fast it was beating, giving himself up before he could even start. Her face was flushed when she smiled up at him, and part of him hoped he was to blame for that. 

     For a minute, neither of them moved, opting instead to watch the other's face. Samson gripped Devi’s soft arms, her smaller hands falling atop his forearms and resting just below the elbow. He broke eye contact to watch those hands; like the rest of her, they seemed so innocuous, and yet they'd been powerful enough to bring him down. Her thick fingers wiggled under his gaze, and when he met her eyes again, she was squirming, waiting for him to do something.

     “Samson…?”

     “Sorry, Genlock,” His voice was softer than he'd meant for it to be, and Devi surely noticed. “Seems like I’ll be stealing your attention for a while.”

     She nodded dumbly as he pulled her into one of the many empty (or not so empty, by the sounds he’d heard while he waited) rooms in the hall, closing the door behind them quietly. The room was dimly lit, some low lights on the wall and a lamp on the large desk that sat in the middle of what seemed to be an office. 

     Samson was suddenly very self-conscious, swearing he could hear his heart pounding damn near out his chest. The way Devi pressed her hands to her chest, he had a feeling she was trying to relieve herself of the same issue. Part of him wanted to be proud of that, but he knew what he brought her there to do. He’d squash these feelings once and for all, and stay friends with a beautiful woman who was prone to high levels of hyperactivity and obscure references. Hopefully.

     Hopefully.

     “How was your evening, Genlock?” She startled when he spoke, lost in her thoughts. She was being unnervingly quiet.

     She laughed sheepishly, playing with the lace of her sari. “Ahah, it was ridiculous, every time Charlie figured out a way to win the court over, they’d throw us some kinda curveball! It’s not baseball! Honestly at this point, I think baseball would be preferable. Cause like, it - no wait, let me, let me not get distracted. Um, Florianne was probably the worst villain ever and I’m kinda mad we didn’t figure it out sooner. Did you know we were just...gonna let Celene…Samson?”

      He had enough mind to wipe the stupid smile off his face. Maker, he was really acting a fool. What sort of look did he have on his face? It was one strange enough to cut the girl off mid-ramble. Maybe he didn’t want to know.

     “Go on, I’m listening,” Samson moved off the door, walking towards her. He was tempted to reach out and stroke her face; he knows it’s soft, felt it when she rubbed her cheeks against his all those times in Skyhold.

     “Are you okay? Cause you’re looking at me weird...it’s like in those romances when the guy is totally head over heels, like ‘to ends of the earth and then’ type love, ya know? And the girl he’s in love with is talking and he’s just, he’s looking at her the way you’re looking at me, haha…”

     She couldn’t see it, but her face was practically glowing red, even in the low light of the room. Her rambling was less habit and more nervousness - she was stuttering and giggling and Samson didn’t stop himself that time. Reaching out, he cupped a cheek with his callous hands, and Maker, they were even softer than he expected. Devi sucked in a breath, nostrils flaring as she tensed up. Samson almost pulled back, but she reached up and held him here, closing her eyes and rubbing against his palm. 

     “You’re a good girl, Devi,” The way she smiled, eyes still closed, made him falter for just a moment. “You...you deserve better than me, than what I have to offer.”  
Her eyes were wide when they snapped open, confusion swirling behind them when they rose to meet his. 

     (Samson couldn’t couldn’t see it, but his were filled with love and adoration, and they knocked the air right out of her lungs.)

     “Samson…? What are you saying? Is it because I got touchy in the coat room? Cause - because we can just forget about that-” 

     “No,” The former Templar chuckled, a sad sound even by his standards. “No, that’s not it at all.”

     “Then why?” Her voice was small, shaky. For a moment, Samson wanted to take it all back. But that moment passed, and he pressed on, if only for her sake.

     “You know why, love.”

     She scoffed, confusion slowly warping into anger at his vagueness. 

     ...Even so, she was still smiling at the pet name.

     “I don’t know anything. Charlie’s the brain’s of this operation remember?” 

     “Don’t.” He cut her off before she could get anything more in. “Not with me. You’re incredibly intelligent, love. We both know this.”

     “Yeah?” She asked, tone sarcastic and face unimpressed. “Is that why you’re treating me like a child?”  
“What?” His hand slipped from her face as she moved back, propping herself up on the desk behind her for more height. True to her nature, her feet swung back and forth, anklets sending jingles bouncing around the room.

     “Tell me why.”

     Samson was startled by her serious attitude. It didn’t fit her. She wasn’t rambling, bouncing off the walls, smiling at him...This is not what he wanted. This is not how he expected this to go.

     “I,” He started, trying to find the words he’d thought he had just seconds before. “...I am not a good man.”  
Devi flinched, but otherwise made no move to interrupt.

     “You know my past. You know the things I’ve done. I’m a bitter old man who...who sought to get what I believed was mine. I followed Corypheus willingly. I would have  _ struck you down _ willingly had we met under different circumstances. How could I possibly live up to you? Give you what you deserve?”

      A warm hand gripped his, and he tried to pull away, but it only held tighter. He kept forgetting how powerful she was. But it’s not just sheer strength, is it? Not when it comes to her.

     “Live up to what? What d’you think I deserve?”

     It was his turn to scoff. “A beautiful young woman, co-leader of a small nation, who is not only powerful enough to take me down mostly by accident,”

     She laughed at that, her thumb stroking his knuckles, and he melted just a bit.

     “But is also kind enough to try and find the good in me. You deserve a man who’s good side you don’t have to dig for, who isn’t moody and fighting against the lyrium he craves everyday. Not some ugly, old pervert like me.”  
That got a cackle out of her almost immediately. She doubled over, laughing into the silk of her dress, as Samson stood there dumbfounded. He’d poured his heart out and she...laughed. Hm. Not entirely the response he was hoping for, but it was better than her anger.

     She wiped the tears from her face, and Samson was sure they were both happy her kohl was smudge-proof. Letting out the last remnants of the laughing fit, she finally looked up at him. “Samson...I’m sorry, but you're ridiculous. Like, seriously, ugly? Old?”

     “Didn’t you call me Slugman for a while?”

     “I did! And I stand by it, it’s a term of endearment. And!” She cut him off before he could get his two cents in. “You know I love ugly things, Samson. Why would you be any different?”

     ...Whether that was a compliment or not, he didn’t know, but he’d take what he could get. “I’m not sure that came out the way you meant it, but thank you. This doesn’t change the age gap-”

    “Samson, I’m in my twenties! I can handle a little age gap - I’m a big girl, I promise. And what’s this about being a pervert?”

     “If...if you knew the thoughts I had-”

     “Samson. Are you really gonna pretend I didn’t try to blow you in a coat room not too long ago.”

     It wasn’t a question.

     “You wouldn’t have really-”

     “I absolutely would have.”

     There was a beat, the two of them waiting for the other to crack. Samson broke first, looking away with an exaggerated sigh while Devi beamed up at him. Slamming his hands on either side of the giggling woman, he leaned in real close.

    “You’re impossible, you know that?” His smile betrayed him, especially when a hand rose to stroke his cheek, mirroring his actions earlier.

     “It’s because you love me,” She sing-songed, winking salaciously at him. It was only then that he realized - that they both realized - that they could feel each other’s breath, foreheads practically touching. He saw the way her eyes flicked to his lips, biting her own when she looked back up at him, and damn if he didn’t want to kiss hers himself.

     Ah, fuck it.

     Samson closed the distance between them. Devi squeaked, her hands moving away from his face for a split second, only for her arms to wrap themselves around his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss was sweet and shallow, if only for a moment. The next moment? Well, Devi wasn’t exactly subtle about her intentions. She nipped at his bottom lip, winking up at him when he glared at her. 

     If that’s how she wanted to play things, then so be it. 

     Pulling back, Samson rushed forward and captured her mouth again, this time with much more vigor. He swallowed her sounds, one arm wrapping around her waist to keep her chest pressed against him. Just the thought that the only thing keeping him from her breasts was a few simple layers of material sent shivers straight between his legs. She was playing a dangerous game, but he had the feeling she knew exactly what she was doing.

     Devi let go of him, her mouth still moving frantically his, to sweep her arms out behind her, knocking over a small pile of books and some pens. Thankfully, that was really all that was there, and Samson took full advantage by pressing the short woman to the wooden surface. Thankfully, her gold pauldrons were put away after Florianne was caught, seeing the situation as significantly less deadly - if she was still in her pieces of armor, this might be at least slightly uncomfortable. He wanted to feel as much of her as he possibly could, but there was one glaring issue.

      “Genlock,” He grunted, appreciating the way she tried to arch into him when he pulled back. “As much as I’d love to continue this, it seems your dress is in the way.”

     And that wasn’t an attempt to get her out of it. The dress clung to her thighs and flared out at the knee, similar to Charlie’s, and he couldn’t pull her closer if she couldn’t spread her thighs for him. It was  _ not  _ an excuse thinly veiled with promise, that he swore.

     That didn’t mean she wouldn’t take it that way, though. 

     With a seductive grin he hadn’t thought her capable of, Devi ran two fingers over her kiss swollen lips, breathing heavily. “Guess you’ll just have to take it off me then, huh Raleigh?”

     Well then. Samson let out a bark of a laugh, pulling himself off Devi and helping get her down off the desk. “Can’t argue with that kind of logic, can I?”

     The process of unwrapping the Inquisitor was more sensual that it had any right being in some dimly lit room with other strangers likely fucking in at least one of the adjacent rooms and absolutely fucking in the ones across the hall. Devi laughed, spinning with the pull of the fabric. Samson, on the other hand, forgot how to breath when he realized she wasn’t wearing any sort of shirt or bra beneath the material covering her chest. The entire night, she was a breath away from exposing herself if she got caught on something…

     Maker, she really  _ would  _ be the death of him.

     “Samson~” While he was considering what could have been, Devi took the time to slip out of the rest of her sari, standing bare before him. She struck a silly pose, maybe an attempt at a sexy one, winking and blowing a kiss to the dumbfounded man before her. “I’m ready~”

     She looked...so soft. Just like he’d imagined she would. Her breasts were full, squishable - it made him sound like young man, but he wanted to bury his face between them. He’d known they were large, he could tell whenever she pressed up against him, or wore low cut shirts, or just generally passed him by - but seeing them bare before him had his head reeling. His eyes drifted down to her thighs, and he was overcome with the impulse to press his face between them, to grip the supple flesh as he had his way with her...

     Against his better judgement, he slunk to his knees, pressing his head to the floor and groaning. 

     “Well, I’ll be honest, that’s not entirely the reaction I was looking for, Samson.”

     “It’s just,” He started, voice catching in his throat when he dared a look back at her, still frozen in that ridiculous pose. “It’s been...awhile since I last laid with someone. I don’t want to get your hopes up.”

      She made a contemplative face, finally dropping her stance, before smiling down at him. 

     “It’s alright! This is my first time so-”

     “It’s your what?”

     “Oops. Probably should have mentioned that earlier? I’m sorry but have you kissed yourself lately? It’s pr- well, you can’t really do that, but whatever, it’s pretty distracting.”

     Groaning, he buried his face in his hands. Samson heard her squat in front of him, and was almost too afraid to look. 

     Almost.

     Reaching out, he placed a hand right above her heart, willing himself not to go any farther than that.

     “Are you sure you want to do this? With me?”

     Devi sucked her tongue. “Samson, I’m butt naked waiting for you to bend me over this desk. I’m sure.”

     A pause.

     “Were you really going to suck me off in a closet when you’ve never lain with anyone before?”

     “Different strokes for different folks? Ever heard of that sh- oh wait.”

      He couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head.

     “You’re ridiculous.”

     “And you’ve got an erection,” She quipped, and he felt a hand snake down his thigh. “So we’re even.”

     That was that then. Taking his hand off her chest, Samson stood, pulling her up with him. Reaching down, he grabbed her by the backs of her thighs, waiting til her arms wrapped around his neck instinctively before he hoisted her up, prompting her legs around his hips. She squealed with laughter, and Samson saw no better option than to quiet her with his mouth, a roaming hand grabbing a handful of her ass. He grunted when she gasped into his mouth, rocking his hips up against hers.

     He deposited her on the desk she’d cleared, hands feeling up the expanse of her thighs as he dipped his head to nip at the junction of her neck and shoulder. She arched up into him, brushing against his prominent erection, and suddenly his clothes were too tight - too hot.

     Pulling back and laughing quietly at her whining, he hurriedly undid the buttons of his shirt, unwrapping his sash and loosening his pants. Devi sat up to push his shirt off of him, her mouth on his collar before it even hit the floor. Samson remembered something Cowden told him in passing, something about Devi’s weakness being body hair. He didn’t think much of it until now, watching her admire his chest, even though it was a little embarrassing.

     Her lips traveled up to his neck and stopped there, her lips puckered up at him waiting for him to meet her halfway. Grinning, he stole her mouth once again, this time letting his hands roam her chest, groping her breasts and pinching at her dark nipples, relishing in the sounds she makes beneath him. When she ground her center against his clothed thigh, Samson swore his heart stopped - the heat on his leg would surely end him. Pushing her up the desk, he moved his attentions downward, leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake. Devi had enough mind to cover her mouth when he sucked on a breast, a free hand kneading at the soft flesh of the other. 

     He lost track of how much time he stayed paying attention to her chest - he couldn’t help it, it was amazing and he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity - but it must have been long enough, as Devi started whining beneath him again, pushing him downwards. At least she knew what she wanted. He followed her demands, pressing kisses down her body until he reached the apex of her thighs. Devi’s legs were thrown over his shoulders, and he made it clear that he wouldn’t be teasing from here on out (well, not too much). There was no nipping or kissing of her inner thigh, only sly looks and obscene humor from a the sweaty woman on the desk. 

     “Your mouth is  _ foul _ , Genlock,” Samson chided, breathing in the scent of her before taking a tentative lick. Whatever retort she had lined up was lost with the broad stroke of his tongue, instead she moaned heartily and leaned back on her elbows, one hand coming down to grab at his slicked back hair. He took his time with her, prodding with his tongue and suckling at her clit until she was dripping, lining up a finger at her entrance and looking up to gauge her reaction. When she nodded, panting heavily, he pushed a finger in and found it met little resistance. Devi gasped, pushing his back to her heat, and he complied, lapping heartily as he thrust. Samson chuckled, lips still pursed around her clit, when she nearly choked as he added a second finger - when she tugged at his hair as punishment, he pulled away and growled, hand moving faster and curling within her.

     “Does the Inquisitor want to play rough? I don’t know if you’re ready for that.”

     “W-whatever happened to being-” She stopped to bit her lip when he leaned back in to lap at her clit as she spoke. “Sam _ son _ ! Let me talk! Wh...what happened to being o _ ooout  _ of practice?”

     “Guess I lied,” was all the former Templar offered, his free hand falling to reach into his loosened trousers to stroke himself. He was painfully hard, but this was her first time - she’d get to act out her closet fantasies next time.

     Next time...To think, a beautiful woman wanted to have a sexual relationship with him, and beyond that, a romantic one? He was one lucky son of a bitc-

     His thoughts were cut short when thick thighs clamped around his head, the faint sounds of Devi trying to muffle her squealing as she shook in orgasm. Releasing himself, Samson pried her thighs open, picking up the pace and sucking hard to carrying her through her climax. He only slowed once her back hit the desk, thighs still shaking as she turned on her side. She was breathing loud, her voice quaking with the rest of her body.

     “Did I tucker the good lady out?” He joked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he watched her. It took her a second to compose herself, but when she did, she looked over at him with a smirk, eyes glinting with mischief.

     “When we didn’t even get to the good part yet? Hardly” She breathed, a leg sticking out to brush against his clearly visible erection. Samson groaned, a deep sound at the back of his throat, and he watched Devi’s thighs rub each other in response. Grabbing her by the offending ankle, he lifted it, turning her gently so she was on her back and exposed. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to the ankle in his grasp, grinning wolfishly down at the panting woman before him.

     “Do you think you can handle it?” A rhetorical question. He could tell by the way she returned his grin that she was at least ready to try.

     “You know it, Slugman.” She teased him as he took a step back, pulling down his trousers until they sat at his ankles. He heard her gasp when they hit the floor, swelling with pride when he caught her blatantly staring at his member. She sat up shakily, reaching out to touch it.

     “Don’t you test me, Genlock,” Samson grunted, leaning in to give her better access. He braced his hands on either side of her, letting her pull him into a kiss as she stroked him, letting him moan quietly into her mouth. She was dead set on making him feel good, and the fast pace she set was indicative of that, leaving him putty in her hands. If her mumbled praises meant anything, then he definitely had something to be proud of. A hand found itself at her entrance again, two fingers slipping in to prepare her for what’s to come. Samson was glad to find she was just as wet as he’d remembered, if not wetter. He wanted her first time to be as enjoyable as possible.

     Finally,  _ finally,  _ he placed his hand over hers, slowing her determined strokes to push her back down. He pulled a leg so that it rested on his hip, lifting the other to give him better access. Lining himself up, he couldn’t help but tease her, rubbing himself against her soaked center.

     “Samson, if you don’t fuck me I swear to  _ Goooood _ ,” In normal circumstances, he would have choked back a laugh at the sound, but he was too preoccupied by the warm feel of her around him. There was a little resistance, but he kept it slow so not to hurt her. Beneath him Devi writhed, panting and moaning as he kept his thrusts slow and shallow, opening her up to him. Though it shouldn’t have been too surprising, Devi took it like champ, wrapping her legs around him to try and pull him in deeper. He stilled his hips, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips, moving behind her ears as he pushed until he was completely in.

     “How’s that feel, love?” He grunted, rocking into her as he nipped her neck light enough that he wouldn’t leave noticeable marks. She giggled beneath him, shifting to lift her hips to meet his thrusts. Like the gentleman he was, Samson held her hips for her, so they wouldn’t be too sore on the way back to Skyhold.

     “Amazing, jus’ like I imagined,” She panted, finally just giving in to the pleasure and throwing her head back in a moan. “F-faster, Raleigh.”

     And he complied. He kept his thrusts short and fast, satisfied groans spilling from his mouth as he reached up to fondle a bouncing breast. Hickeys were blooming dark on her collar, and part of him hoped the drape of her sari didn’t quite cover all of them up. The thought sent his mind reeling, him thrusting deep to feel the whole of her. Her yelp gave him pause, but her practically sobbing pleas for him to keep going spurred him on. He gave it to her as deep and hard as she wanted, slowing when she asked and speeding when she was comfortable, and it was no surprise that he felt his gut tighten with impending release. She was not too far behind, thighs already shaking as her short bangs clung to her sweaty forehead, her grip tight on his forearm. 

     “Maker...I’m close…” Samson groaned through grit teeth, hips losing whatever semblance of control they had left. Devi mewled in agreement beneath him, pulling him in close as orgasm washed over her again. It was the feel of her biting into his neck to stifle herself that tipped him over the edge, the knowledge that it’d definitely leave a mark that no one would see under his high collared shirt satisfying him greatly. 

    He wheezed into her ear, orgasm hitting him like a brick. Maker, he really was out of practice, because he couldn’t remember it ever feeling that good before. He was definitely winded, struggling to catch his breath as he tried not to crush the spent woman trapped between his heavy ass and a hard wooden surface. Both of them were sweaty and breathless, Devi splayed and dripping on the desk as Samson looked around for something to clean themselves up with. He settled on the blue sash he’d worn around his waist, not liking it too much in the first place. Devi purred when he swiped between her legs, panting out some innuendo.

     “You...you ready for round three already...Raleigh?” He chuckled at that, tutting as he finished and wiped himself with the opposite side and standing before her. 

     “As much as I’d love to bend you over this desk like you wanted,” He says, pulling on his several layers of clothing. “I think we’d be missed.”

     Devi ‘ _ ooo’ _ d at him, giggling at his salacious tone, her joy turning to visible annoyance when he dresses himself adequately (sans a notable blue sash) and turns to help her off the desk and back into her sari. Her legs are shaky when tries to stand alone, Samson huffing, amused, when he has to hold her up and help her wrap herself back up (thankfully, she actually knows what she’s doing).

     It takes some time, but in the end they’re inevitably as well dressed as they’re going to get, Samson watching as she tries to lean up to adjust his collar. Her lips poked out as she worked, eyes tired from the night’s...festivities, parted slightly as she held her breath. Leaning down, Samson took the chance to steal her lips one last time, smiling when she nips his bottom lip and winks.

     “I think that’s enough from you, sailor,” She laughs, smoothing out the wrinkles in the fabric of her sari as she lowers herself off her tiptoes. “Didn’t you say we’d be missed? Or did you just enjoy unwrapping me that much?”

     Samson chuckled, opening the door for her. “The surprise is ruined now, Genlock. We’ll have to save it for a later date.”

     She slapped his arm harder than she’d meant, taking shaky steps into the hall as she laughed. Samson watched her go for a moment, shocked that of all the people she had her pick of, Devi still chose him.

     Corypheus said there’s no Maker, that he’d abandoned his children long ago. Be that as it may,  _ something  _ brought him to her, and he didn’t know if he was quite lucky enough for it to be blamed on chance.

 

....

 

     “Say, Genlock, do you really think I’m a good man?”

     “I think you’re not half as bad as you make yourself out to be, Samson! Have a little faith in yourself! Actually, have a little faith in me too, I don’t think I’d have tried to get in your pants so hard otherwise. Well, I’ve been know to like a bad boy every so often, ya know-”

     Cowden was right; it sounded better coming from her.

 

…

…

 

     Krem walked the halls searching for wherever it was Devi could have gone off to. Charlie said she knew where he was, moping on some balcony overlooking the ballrooms last she checked. Maybe Devi was with him, she’d said, or maybe she wandered off on a little adventure.

     He couldn’t help but look over his shoulder, expecting Devi to leap from the shadows and slide another frog down his short.  _ Ugh _ , the thought gave him the shivers. 

     As he walked down the long hallway, he heard the sounds of people talking. To his subdued surprise, It was Samson and Devi, Devi chattering excitably about...something. The two of them were noticeably closer than before, the weird sexual tension between them non-existent. Something else replaced it, something Krem couldn’t quite put his finger on.

     “-turns out he was kind of an asshole anyways - Oh! Hi, Krem of the Crop! Guess what, Samson just dicked me down!”

     “Devi.”

     “What, you did!”

     Krem could have sworn he felt part of himself wither away.

     Maker preserve him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope there weren't too many mistakes cause my brain clocked out around 6 pages in tbh...OTL


	4. Green-Eyed Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone's jealous~

“Krem.” 

 

The lieutenant had barely made it into the tavern before his boss was calling him. With an exaggerated sigh, Krem followed the beckoning Qunari to a quieter, more secluded area, just a little worried about the unreadable expression in his boss’s eye.

 

“What’s the matter, Chief? You ready to admit that barmaid was looking at me and not you?” He laughed, anxiety curbed when Bull guffawed like he usually does. So it wasn’t something horribly serious, at least.

 

“Don’t you have a girl to worry about already?” It was meant in jest, but there was just a  _ smidge  _ of an accusation there. Accusing who of what, Krem wasn’t exactly sure. But he didn’t like it, not from Bull.

 

“I don’t need to worry about her too much,” is what he settled with, punching his boss on his beefy bicep. Bull chuckled, rubbing at the sore spot before sending Krem an even look.

 

“You sure about that?” At what looked like the beginnings of offense blooming on Krem’s face, Bull continued. “Word around town is she’s getting awful close to Cullen’s old Templar buddy.”

 

“I’m  _ sure _ , Chief.” His tone was clipped, and Bull’s eyebrows shot to his metaphorical hairline. Had he actually gotten Krem mad? That was one for the books. Or the gang during their next Wicked Grace night. After a beat, Krem found himself mumbling, embarrassed. “...And anyways, Cullen hates Samson’s guts. She told me that.”

 

When Bull laughed this time, it didn’t sound so fake. “Alright, alright - I’ll leave it! Jealousy doesn’t look so good on you.”

 

Krem pushed away from the table with a huff, cheeks flushed. “I’m not jealous!”

 

...

 

He was totally jealous. He was totally jealous and he  _ hated it. _ It’s not like he thought Charlie was cheating on him with  _ Samson  _ of all people, he had complete and total faith in her! It’s just...he was just…

 

Jealous. He had grown accustomed to her spending most of her time with Devi, or away on missions, but Samson was new. Samson was a proven danger. Samson worked with Corypheus of all people! But she still found a strange friendship with the man. Enough so that people thought they were lovers. 

 

Krem stopped in his tracks, swiping a hand down his face. Maker, how childish. He was jealous that his lover was spending time with someone that wasn’t him. He didn’t even care that it was Samson - had someone else filled that spot, he’d have found fault with that too. He was too old for feelings like this.

 

He found himself in the gardens before he realized he was headed there. His eyes immediately went to the spot he knew was their hideaway - sure enough, he could just make out Samson past the large rosebushes obscuring the way, Charlie napping on the former Templar’s shoulder. Oof. That didn’t help. Just as he took a step off the stone walkway, he was yanked into a crouching position behind the half-wall he had been standing next to. 

 

“I can’t believe she got taken by  _ Slug-man _ !” The voice hissed, and Krem sighed wearily. 

 

Of course Devi was there. 

 

“What are you doing?” She was obviously peeping, watching them from over the wall with furrowed brows. She raised an eyebrow at his question, turning to address him.

 

“Same thing you were?” And she was back, glaring over her barrier and not really caring if people stared or not. Huh. Got him there. Well, she wasn’t trying to prank him it seemed, so he went along with it, if only for a little while.

 

“Sooooo...what exactly are we looking out for?” They’d been there for several minutes, and they were only hidden from Charlie and Samson, not the other three dozen people who roam the gardens. Devi made a sound akin to a scoff, a pompous sort of sound he didn’t think the woman capable of.

 

“Waiting for the slimy bastard to slip up so I can salt him.” That was...a type of aggression he didn’t think she had in her. But it didn’t sound totally sincere. And if Charlie was right, and he certainly believed she was, Devi was overcompensating for some more... _ intimate _ feelings for the older man. He’d say they’d make a strange couple, but somehow it seems entirely fitting.

 

“They’re friends, you know,” He tried, not entirely sure that’d make any difference. This one was a wildcard - he could never be too certain with her. She muttered something under her breath, a frown tugging at her lips.

 

“She was my friend  _ first, _ and he stole her from me.” Wow. She was genuinely bothered by their friendship. It was Krem’s turn to scoff incredulously. 

 

“You can’t have her all to yourself, you know she wouldn’t like that,” There was some part of him that wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t quite put a finger on why. “If she trusts him, then we should too.”

  
The look she gave him was so blatantly unimpressed, he could have sworn she got it from Charlie.

 

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black if I’ve ever heard it.”

 

Krem practically squawked, aghast. “Are you trying to  _ say  _ something?”

 

“That I had to pull your jealous ass back when you tried to break them up?”

 

“I’m  _ not  _ jealous!”

 

\--

 

On the other side of the garden:

 

“You’re a popular one, aren’t you, Cowden?”

 

Samson watched the tops of two familiar heads bob as they argued angrily behind a half wall, chuckling as the other garden dwellers looked on in a mix of confusion and amusement. The woman resting on his shoulder hummed - not totally awake, but pretending she knew what he was talking about.

 

“You don’t even know what I’m talking about,” He grumbled, jostling her with a shake of his shoulder. Charlie whined, begrudgingly getting up to glare at the insufferable man she called a friend. “You’ve got suitors arguing for your hand.”

 

“Doubt it,” She grumbled, completely missing the shouts of her name coming from her poorly concealed friends as she reached for the book she had been trying to read. Or rather, that she was trying to decipher and kept Samson close by since he actually understood written Common. When she looked up, he was staring at her, incredulous. “What?”

 

With no words, Samson simply pointed to the pair blatantly giving away their hiding spot.

 

“Oh,” was Charlie’s response, snapping the book shut as she rose from the bench. “I totally noticed that.”

 

“Sure you did, girl. Now go, before that Genlock of yours murders your lover,” He shooed her off the bench, smiling faintly when she turned to glare halfheartedly at him.

 

“There will be no murdering on my watch,” She grumbled, beelining for the two loud garden dwellers. 

 

\---

“Admit it, you’re jealous!”

“Why does everyone keep  _ saying  _ that!?”   
“Because it’s true!”   
“It’s  _ not! _ ” 

 

“Who’s jealous?” The two almost didn’t notice, pointing at the other in accusation at her question before Krem stilled, turning shakily to see who was talking. Devi had half a mind to do the same, both of them gaping when Charlie quirked a brow. “What?”

 

There was a pause, the two of them staring at the increasingly confused woman as her brow furrowed. The three of them stood in silence for a minute before Charlie finally broke.

“Wh-” 

 

And they were gone, Devi grabbing Krem’s hand and running away. (Krem ended up pulling Devi because she too slow to make much distance as it was).

 

Dumbfounded, Charlie watched as they escaped the gardens, not missing Samson’s cackle before he slapped a hand over him his mouth. She turned to him, raising her arms above her head in confusion, and he just laughed harder. 

 

With a sigh, Charlie turned and ran after them.

\---

“ _ Why did you make me run?! _ ” Krem shouted, not necessarily at the woman he was dragging behind him.

 

“You’re...pulling...me!” Devi wheezed behind him, struggling to keep up.

 

“You pulled me first!”   
  


“Yeah, because you couldn’t keep your voice down!”

 

“Why did you guys run from me?” 

 

Both of them yelped, not noticing the tall woman run up on them. She was easily keeping pace while both of them were at least a little out of breath.

 

“Charles,” Devi huffed, and Charlie hummed in acknowledgement. “Charles, why are….are you so fast?! You’re like...the Flash! Living up to...your nickname! A self *huff* fulfilling prophecy!”

 

“Used to run cross-country.” She sounded just a little cocky. Just a little. Beside her, Krem made a sound of admiration, still running for whatever reason.

 

“You used to run across whole countries in your world? That’s amazing, Your Worship!” Krem beamed as he praised her, Charlie turning away to giggle bashfully. 

 

“Krem, you idiot,” Devi heaved, but it seemed that didn’t catch the lovebirds’ attention in the slightest. The moment was only lost when Devi stumbled, tripping over her own ankle only to crash into Krem’s legs spectacularly.

 

Charlie watched the crumpled heap of people she called friends as they groaned, bickering from their spots on the floor. She tutted, closing in on them as they sat up.

 

Neither of them expected to be pulled into a hug. Krem found his cheek pressed into Charlie’s chest, flushing and scrambling to find an appropriate spot for his hands while Devi rubbed her soft cheeks lovingly against Charlie’s. 

 

“I’m sorry, did you guys miss me? If you wanted me, all you had to do was ask.” Her chuckle rumbled low in her chest, and Krem finally settled, content with the arm he wrapped around her waist. He even couldn’t bring himself to get annoyed when a stray elbow bonked him on the top of his head, especially not when he felt soft lips press healing kisses in its wake.

 

To think he’d ever been jealous. 

(Not that he’d admit that out loud.)

 

…..

 

…..

 

“Kremit was totally jelly, Charles. It was wild, like- like something straight out of a telenovela! He was ready to jump in and fight Samson and every-”

 

“I was  _ not! _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god I hope I wrote him right,


	5. Beautiful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one? is a doozy. whoops!

“You _still_ haven’t bent that poor girl over her desk yet?”

Samson was at it again. He couldn’t help it, not with the way the poor boy was watching her. There was no way the boy _wasn’t_ fantasizing about the more diplomatic of the Inquisitors, what with the way he was practically drooling over her and her tight breeches.

Krem looked up him, unimpressed. Samson’s teasing stopped affecting the young man early into their...relationship, he guessed one would call it. Once upon a time, he could get Krem to go beet red at just the implication of sex or even just being alone in the same room as Charlie but, unlike her, he was _actually_ fairly experienced in that field. So while she was still getting all tongue-tied and flustered at the thought, Krem had started reacting with mild annoyance or, even worse, _boredom_. This time was a mixture of the two.

“What now.” It was hardly a question, and he hadn’t even looked away from where Charlie once stood, her having walked out of view when Leliana called for her presence in the tower. At that point, he was blatantly ignoring him, and Samson wasn’t sure he was going to stand for that.

“All I’m saying is,” Samson started, throwing an arm over the younger man’s shoulders. “If you don’t step up, I might have to. Save the poor girl the misery. Certainly think she’d appreciate it.”  
  
Krem shrugged his arm off, looking up at him with an incredulous look.

“Yeah?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. “You think Devi’ll appreciate it too?”  
  
“With what you’re doing to her friend, she’s probably on my side too! Isn’t that right, Genlock?” Samson threw the question over his shoulder, only to be met with a frown. “Genlock?”

Shaking her head, she put on a smile, albeit a sad one, and walked ahead of them.

“Alright, alright, alright! Let’s cut the locker room chat and get _touslin’_ ! BFG’s probably _been_ waiting for us!” Even her tone was clipped, and Krem sighed heavily, exasperated.

“Good job, ladykiller.” He knocked Samson once on the chest, turning and sprinting to the training grounds and leaving the older man with his confusion.

 

//

 

So. He’d gone and made Devi mad. See, he realized this _before_ Charlie came at him with rolled up documents in the gardens, but it’s not as if he hadn’t tried to talk to her! But every time he got close, she conveniently found something to do. She rejected him for paperwork, of all things.

Training had been a bust. She had been quiet in the beginning, which was unnerving on its own, but when it was their turn to spar, she only got more and more aggressive. Ultimately, it reached its end when she knocked Samson hard enough on his ass he swore he the Maker, leaving him sprawled on the ground while she ran off to Andraste-knows-where. From that point on, Devi only seemed to get madder and madder. It was one of the first time in recent days where he felt it was time to call it quits.

And that was when Charlie came in.

Samson had been in his usual spot in Skyhold’s gardens, slumped on a lone bench hidden away behind a wall of roses. He had heard her footsteps making their way towards him at an alarming rate, but made the fatal mistake of believing she’d come to comfort _him_ and not in defense of the woman she’d come to regard as family.

“Cowden…” He started, rising off the bench to hopefully receive some sort of comfort from the younger woman. Instead, he was greeted with rolled up documents narrowly connecting with his head had he not seen to block it. “Maker’s tears!”

Charlie got two more surprisingly heavy blows before he grabbed her wrists, hopefully not hard enough to bruise. Spinning her around, he plopped her onto the bench he’d been sulking on, leaning over her so as to block any onlookers - they may be friends, but he knew his place. If any harm were to come to the Inquisitor by his hands, hands that once worked for _Corypheus_ , he’d surely be locked away in the farthest dungeon they can acquire and left to rot.

“What’s gotten into you, girl?!” He hissed through his teeth, his annoyance building.

“Think long and hard about why I might come at you with rolled up documents, Samson.”

He didn’t really have to. Letting go of her wrists, Samson brought a hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on.

“She told you.”  
  
“Krem told me. I just connected the dots.”

“Look,” Samson started, sitting down next to her. His eyes drifted to where she wrung her wrists and he felt bad. A little. A lot. “Look. I didn’t expect her to take it so badly. Now she’s angry and won’t budge an inch, unless it’s to get away from me.”

“While I won’t get into the whole joke thing, because frankly the secondhand embarrassment is killing me right now-”  
  
“The what?”   
  
“ _LOOK_ . You know she’s stubborn as a mule. Do you know how long it took me to get her to finally admit she liked you, and _didn’t_ actually hate your guts? Too goddamn long, Samson.”

He made to say something, but she held up a hand to stop him.

“Nope, don’t wanna hear it. She’s in her room right now, I think you know what to do.”

Charlie made to leave him with his thoughts but, to her surprise, the older man shot up like a rocket, long legs carrying him off towards Devi’s quarters. She’d never really seen him run for anything, not even for Cullen’s ridiculous demands, so it came as a bit of a shock. Ah well. She knew one thing for certain:

That man was determined.

 

//

 

Devi hadn’t been expecting Samson to burst into her room. She had been staring wistfully out over the mountains, white knuckling the railing of her balcony when her door was practically kicked in, the action _nearly_ ripping a scream from her throat. _Nearly._

She was positive her heart stopped for a second, though.

Whatever wallowing she was doing stopped with it, at least - though it didn’t come back like her heartbeat did. No, it had no time to, Samson made certain of that.

Crossing the huge room in an incredible span of time, the taller man was upon her, pulling her up into a fiery kiss that she all but melted into. Samson only let up when both of them were left breathless, Devi’s mind still reeling from the sudden intrusion.

“Genlock.” Devi felt her cheeks flush just a little, not anticipating the heady tone. “I’m sorry.”

Her wallowing had been lost with the intrusion, that much was true - but that wasn’t necessarily better. Not when it opened the gates to the thing she had been trying her damnedest to repress.

Anger.

 

Samson hadn’t expected being pushed away, she saw that much in his face as he stumbled back.

“Why don’t you save it for a pretty girl at the bar?” It was dumb and she knew it but damn if she wasn’t mad at the man. “ ‘Save the poor girl the misery,’ or whatever.”

The reference wasn’t lost on him. Surprisingly, he felt something bitter welling in his chest - a heavy feeling, like it was filled with tar.

“You _are_ the pretty girl at the bar, Genlock,” He tried, feeling the corners of his mouth twitching when she didn’t so much as blink up at him. “No one else is worth the effort.”   
  
Devi barked out a bitter laugh, arms folded under her chest as she glared off to the side. “Yeah? With my- my _long legs_ and _slim waist_ , I’m a regular anime figurine! Just not one you wanna put in a glass box to spank your crank to!”

Samson gawked, annoyance put to the side as he tried to wrap his mind around what exactly just came out the short woman’s mouth. He had grown accustomed to her mannerisms, twisting and crossing metaphors he’d never understand even if she explained them, but every now and then she’d throw him a curveball and leave him utterly dumbfounded. This was one such time.

“Don’t! Don’t try t- don’t try to figure it out I know it doesn’t make sense okay _I know_!” Devi was barely breathing in between words, hands flying up to scratch at her short hair. “Of course you don’t understand but- just- it’s true!”

“Devi,” Samson said suddenly, gripping her arms just hard enough to remind her that he was still there. “Genlock, are you jealous?”

What a loaded question! She scoffed harshly, pulling out of his grip to storm back into her room - the fresh air didn’t feel so fresh anymore.

“ _Jealous_ ?” She spun on her heels, facing Samson as he followed her in. “I’m not- _jealous?!_ ”

“But you are!” He didn’t want to push her, but they’d never get anywhere if she just stayed mad and he rolled over and accepted it. “Genlock, you’ve already said as much!”

He thinks. That figurine metaphor sounded pretty self-deprecating...even if he didn’t get like, half of it.

She sucked her tongue, kicking at nothing and squeezing an arm in an act of what looked like restraint. “Why don’t you just go tell that to some pretty girl at the bar!”  
  
“You already said that.”

“It’s still true!”  
  
“Do you really think there’s someone so attractive out there that they could whisk me away from you?”

Devi didn’t have a response to that. Because she knew, she knew, she _knew_ that he loved her dearly - to the ends of the world and then some - but she couldn’t help but think...what if? What if? She didn’t consider herself the most desirable woman there was, why would he?

When Samson spoke again, Devi could hear how tight his throat was, could see the way his fists balled up at his sides. She refused to look him in the eye.

“Do you really think so little of yourself?”  
  
“Prove me wrong then, Slug man.”

That was every bit for her sake more than his pride, but she should have known by then that Samson wouldn’t hold back.

 

//

 

When the woman he loves, who inspires him to better himself and believes in him despite the odds, doubts how attractive he thinks she is, there’s only one solution Samson sees working.

He eats her out.

 

//

 

(Samson _really_ doesn’t beat around the bush.)

 

//

 

Devi was panicking. It wasn’t really _bad_ panicking, the kind you get when you remember that you’re only mortal and that life is fleeting and time is slipping through your fingers and- well, it wasn’t that kind of panicking. It was more the kind of panic big folk get when handsome men they’re in love with humbly request that they sit on his face. Samson wasn’t exactly humble (or handsome, depending on who you asked) about it - or about anything ever, really - but he was certainly adamant and, well…

She _did_ ask him to prove her wrong.

She never considered herself a blushing virgin, especially not when she lost said virginity on some Orlesian’s desk in the Winter Palace to the man sitting on her bed, but she’d have been lying if she said she wasn’t nervous. Her legs shook visibly while she watched Samson pull his shirt over his head, her own shirt halfway unbuttoned. Thankfully, boots had been left at the door, so those weren’t an issue.

“Ack!” Devi jumped at the feel of Samson’s cold knuckles on her soft stomach, his hands shooing her’s away so he could undo her buttons himself. “You know, for such a hot guy, you’ve got some real cold hands, Slug man.”

He chuckled, purposefully dragging his palms up over her skin, leaving goosebumps in his trail when he settled on her shoulders to push her shirt off her arms. Pressing kisses to her navel, he purposefully settled his cold hands on her hips, smirking up at her when she hissed. “Oh, so I’m hot now? I thought you were a collector of _ugly_ things, Genlock.”   
  
“Oh yeah! Never mind, then.”

“Glad I could help.”

She laughed heartily at that, and Samson felt a weight melt off his shoulders. Gently, he pulled her glasses from her face, placing it on the nightstand. He turned his attention to pulling her down for a kiss, falling back onto the bed with her in tow. Devi unclasped her bra herself, revelling in the way Samson’s eyes glittered when her heavy chest spilled onto his own. Pushing her up, he wasted no time leaving bright hickeys on each breast, free hand groping at whichever one he couldn’t get his mouth on. Much as he wanted to grab a handful of her ass, he also had to keep them propped up slightly.

Devi ground down on his obvious erection, yelping when it made him bite down on the stretch marks he was admiring.

“Someone’s getting antsy, hm?” He teased her, and she was tempted to deny it, even when she was blatantly rocking in his lap. Devi leaned down and muttered something lewd into his ear, cackling when he barked out a laugh and released a breast to swat at her behind. When she looked  at him again, he was smiling smugly back up at her.

“What’re you looking so self-satisfied for, Sammy Baby? We’ve barely started!”

“You’re right, Genlock,” Samson drawled, reaching up to trace her lips with his finger. Devi thought he’d tip her chin down for another make out, but instead he kept his eyes locked on hers. “I was just thinking it was time to get onto the main course.”

Oh, right. Laughing nervously, Devi clambered off his lap, watching him climb to the top of the bed. She squealed happily when a couple of pillows got launched in her direction, swatting one away and grabbing the other out of the air to beat his knees with. The moment was almost lost until Samson brought her back with a heated look.

She peeled her pants and panties off with surprising speed, somehow not falling off her oversized bed in the process. When Samson patted his chest, beckoning her over, she sucked in a deep breath and straddled him again. This part she was used to - hovering over his crotch, breathing heavy and ready to take him and be taken. But it was the slow crawl up his chest, more nerves than seduction, that was new to her. Samson pressed kisses to her thighs when she settled on his chest, not _not_ noticing that she was practically hovering above him. Eating out was nothing new, either - the act being a favorite pastime for the couple - but...just…

“What if I crush you?” The question blurted out before she thought to stop it. “Cause like, seriously Slug man, I’m a pretty heavy girl, and I think you’re the only one in Thedas wild enough to actually sleep with me so if I lose you, I’m shit outta luck.”

The laugh she followed up with was self-deprecating, falling short when he frowned up at her. The former Templar scoffed, pulling her down so she was sitting on him proper.

“I’m a big boy, Genlock. I can handle you just well enough.” He sighed, but there was still an affectionate smile on his face. “Come now, come sit.”

“I’m already sitting, silly!”

“Is my chest hair going to eat you out then?”

Devi faked a pout, slowly shuffling forward until she was hovering over his face. Looking down, she watched as he rubbed his palms soothingly over her thick thighs, staring at the treasure between them hungrily. Samson must have felt her gaze on him, because when he looked up they locked eyes. Of course, he took the opportunity to wink up at her, pressing a kiss to each thigh before leaning up and taking a long, languid lick at her heat. She bucked atop him as he flattened his tongue against her sensitive clit, feeling the vibrations from his subsequent chuckle _everywhere_.

Samson took his time with her, sucking at her lips and flicking her nub with the tip of his tongue. Devi gasped and moaned above him, legs shaking not from impending climax, but from strain.

“You know, Genlock,” She heard him say, whining when he pulled away from her dripping center. “This would be a lot easier on the both of us if you _actually_ sat on my face. Like I asked.”

His tone wasn’t annoyed, more humored than anything, but still, she did feel his hands reach up to grip her hips tight to slowly pull her down to him. Laughing nervously, she rose up even higher.

“I’d be sad if you had to wear a cone, like a dog that got it balls cut off. I mean, I might laugh, but still.”

“You’re awful!”

“You love it!”

“You won’t hurt me, Genlock. I’m _big_ and _strong_ , I can handle it.” His voice was teasing, and Devi managed to trust him long enough to finally take a seat.

Samson wasted no time. Devi rocked against his relentless tongue, trying and failing to keep the pace - he was intent on making her feel as good as possible. He laved and lapped at her, his nose brushing against her clit whenever she rocked forward. A hand came down to tug at his hair, strangled noises coming from the back of her throat. Spurred on by her sounds, he tilted his head up, pushing his tongue into her and holding tight when she bucked at the new sensation. She rode him with a passion, forgoing her insecurities for a moment to thoroughly experience Samson’s apology. The vibrations from his own moans had her clenching and unclenching, sucking in deep breaths, moaning unabashed. A hand came forward to circle her clit and was immediately swatted away by Samson’s larger one, which took its place; it moved in slow, deep circles around the nub, a large contrast compared to fast and sloppy pace Samson took to between Devi’s warm thighs.

(Not that either of them minded.)

What brought Devi over the edge was Samson slipping his tongue from her, latching onto her clit instead. The hand that was there found its way to her chest, tugging hard at one dark nipple while she thumbed the other. One hard suck from underneath her sent Devi tumbling over the edge, crying out as she shook and trembled. Even when she had the mind to move back, she felt his lips following her.

Sliding backwards, Devi laid strewn across her lover - her ass on his chest, her back on his stomach, her head on her comfy bed. Without even sitting up, Samson could see she was breathing heavy, watching her stomach and breasts rise and fall, feeling her legs shake; good, that was exactly the reaction he was hoping for. But, fortunately, he wasn’t done with her yet.

When he rose from the bed, Devi whined and wiggled, but kept an arm thrown over her eyes and didn’t make to move.

“What’s the deal, Garbage Mouth? Done already?” She taunted. Her only reply for a little, aside from the indignant scoff, was the sound of Samson padding across her room and setting something down on the floor at the end of the bed. She moved her arm a little, but by that point her eyes had gone all blurry (or rather, blurrier than usual), so she put it back. She was glad she kept her glasses off, at least.

Samson was hovering over her - she could feel him there, and her suspicions were confirmed when she felt him plant wet kisses up her thighs, smattering her stomach with them before trailing up to her arm. He pinned her wrist to the mattress, sucking at her neck and chuckling when her chest arched up into his.

“I said I’d prove you wrong, didn’t I?” He whispered in her ear, nipping the shell of her ear. When she cracked open an eye, she could make out a devilish smirk right before he leaned down and gave her a quick peck on the lips. When he pulled away, his brow was furrowed, the lines on his forehead pronounced.

“Also: ‘Garbage Mouth’? I don’t think you could call that performance garbage.”

Devi squealed with laughter at his almost insulted tone, reaching up to paw at his face before he huffed out a small laugh and left her again.

“It was a pet name!” She said, finally sitting back up. She missed his hands on her, and wanted them back posthaste.

“I know, I know,” He responded from by the front end of the bed. “I was just grabbing your eyeglasses, Genlock.”

“What for? We doing some sorta kinky glasses-play now, Slug man? You gonna shove ‘em up my ass? Oh! Am I gonna shove ‘em up _your_ ass-”

“ _You’re awful_ !” But he still barked with laughter, so she obviously wasn’t _that_ bad. She kicked at him playfully when he crawled onto the bed, but he dodged her attacks. Gingerly, Samson placed the glasses over her eyes. When she could finally see him clearly, she noticed his smalls had been discarded before he climbed on. Before she could make to grab at his hanging length, he was pointed at something over her shoulder: the mirror, moved to the end of the bed.

Oh.

“Mirror sex?”

“Mirror sex.”

Well then. Devi didn’t need to be told twice.

Samson turned her so she was sat directly in front of it, legs splayed open and arms at her sides - she was completely exposed and, for a fleeting second, she might have even been embarrassed. She didn’t have to look up to see Samson pressed up behind her, his hands rubbing her shoulders as he pressed lingering kisses on her neck. They locked eyes, and Devi felt a pleasant shiver run up her spine at the heated promise she found in his, laughing at the mirth in them when he felt the shivers too.

Sliding his hands down, he passed her breasts, resting them on her stomach. He grabbed a handful of the fat there, one hand coming back to to turn Devi back to the mirror when she tried to look back at him.

“I love this,” he murmured into her ear. She didn’t turn away this time, placing a hand on his own instead.

“I hope you’re not into inflation,” Devi joked, smiling when he groaned. He didn’t know what it was, of course, but he knew she’d tell him anyways. “”Cause I’m not letting you shove a tube up my ass and pump air into me - wait, do they actually go in the ass or like, the vagina? ANYWAYS, you’re not gonna blow me up like I’m some Sonic game on Newgrounds is what I was trying to say.”

He was shaking with suppressed laughter behind her, and she could feel his erection push against her back when he shuffled closer. “You know, I’d have pinned that for nervous rambling, but I think I know you too well by now.”

When she made to say something, he stopped her. “I wasn’t finished, Genlock. Please let me list all the ways I love you before you drop more gross knowledge on me?”

Devi could see how red her cheeks had gotten, even from a distance. She probably looked like a beacon. Samson noticed too, if the way his free hand came up to stroke a warm cheek meant anything. “Hmm...fine.”

“Thank-”

“For now.”

Devi was pulled backwards into a silencing kiss, but not an unkind one. She laughed into his mouth, squealing when his fingers pressed into her soft cheeks.

“Let me speak, girl,” Samson growled against her lips, but she could feel his smile. Turning back to the mirror with renewed vigor, she wiggled against the hardened cock at her back but otherwise let him finish. “I love how soft it is, comforting. But mostly because it’s yours.”

“Don’t forget you get to nap on it sometimes…” The feel of his hands trailing down to her thighs distracted her. Samson huffed in agreement behind her, pausing his actions for a moment before moving them around.

“Come, slide back,” He whispered, and she did, both of them adjusting their legs so that Devi was sitting with her thighs pressed atop his own. She was restraining herself poorly, rocking against the cock pressed firmly between them now. He grunted, bucking up against her. “Easy now, Genlock, I’ve still got some proving left to do.”

Devi whined, slowing her hips only a fraction. Satisfied, he returned to her legs.

“You’ve got strong legs, Devi. Quite frankly, I’m always afraid when I end up between them; one wrong move and my head’s crushed.”

“One _right_ move, I think you mean!” Devi corrects, sliding backwards until his length hangs slips forward enough that she can rub her soaked core over it, revelling in the hiss behind her as an arm wraps around her waist.

“Is it a right move if it kills me?” He asks through grit teeth, and Devi can feel him rocking beneath her. Good. “Maker, you’re an impatient one.”

“I think I deserve that right after today.” She leaned forward, using the leverage to grind her clit against the head of his erection. Whining shakily, she forgot herself, allowing herself that pleasure.

Samson was just as tired of it as she was. Clapping a hand against her thigh, he ushered her hips up and hoped she got the hint. To his audible delight, his answer came in the form of Devi’s calloused hand wrapping around him, pumping him with the help of the wetness she’d smeared on him. She held him steady while she adjusted her hips over him, sliding down and down until he was fully sheathed with her. Both of them moaned loudly at the sensation, Samson attempting to stifle himself before giving it up - he’d be unabashed with his feelings for the night.

Once she had the leverage, Devi slammed down onto him, her thighs slapping loudly against his. Samson gladly let her take the reins, holding her up with and arm and roughly groping a breast with his free hand.

“See how powerful you are?” His voice was near breathless in her ear, breaking when she clenched purposefully around him. “Open your eyes, Genlock.”

She didn’t remember closing them. Complying, she was treated to a frankly scandalous view. Devi could see her lover watching her face, following his eyes as they drifted down to where the two of them were joined. From the angle she found herself in, she could just barely make out the joining of their flesh, her thighs dripping with both sweat and her own juices. Her breasts swayed and slapped against Samson’s arm with every hefty thrust, her stomach and thighs jiggling with the impact. Her face was flushed, lips parted wantonly and glasses threatening to bounce right off her face. She looked herself up and down over and over, finding something every time - how soft she looked, how captivating the folds of her skin were, how enraptured Samson was. Devi felt…

“Beautiful.”

She wasn’t sure who said it first between the two of them when she thought about it later on, whether it was her amazed gasp or Samson’s admiring whisper. She _did_ know that a hand snuck down to seek out her clit, flicking and rubbing in fast circles, nearly catching her off guard while she was busy admiring herself. Gasping, she twisted in his hold, grinding down and undulating to get the friction she so desired.

“And to think, I get to see this every day.” Samson was taking the reins at that point, falling gently to the side and taking her with him so that they both still face the mirror, him partly obscured. Devi had a clear view of their joining now, watching first hand as Samson lifted her leg and plowed into her from behind, her own hand falling to rub herself to the sight. Lip caught between her teeth, her moans were hardly stifled, especially with Samson peeking up to leave dark marks on her neck, watching her the entire time. She could feel the vibrations from his own groans rumbling in his throat, watching him plunge himself deeper and thrust faster and her own fingers rubbing harder and she was curling in on herself because it felt _too good_ and-

Her mind did not register her own orgasm until she was smack dab in it, shouting and cursing into Samson’s large hand that had, at some point in time, come up to quiet her before she woke the whole of Skyhold. Her hand at her clit had faltered, but Samson was still fucking her senseless, whispering words of encouragement and praise into her ear as his own pace started to falter. A strangled sound tore from his throat, and Devi felt him arch into her back as he came, thrusts shallow and jerky until he emptied himself in her, his member soft when he pulled it out to rest on her inner thigh.

The two of them sat in silence for a bit, the only sounds being their heavy breathing and faint chatter of a conversation happening on the battlements that neither of them cared to make out. Samson was draped over her, though not enough to weigh her down uncomfortably. He traced something into her thighs - letters, it felt like - and she rested her head on the arm propped under her head. The quiet was comfortable, calm.

“I forgot to talk about your mouth,” Samson muttered after some minutes. Devi had almost forgotten what he was talking about at that point, almost turning back to look at him before deciding to use the mirror instead.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s your favorite,” She grinned salaciously, winking tiredly at him. He chuckled, the finger drawing on her thighs coming up to run along her bottom lip. When she opened her mouth and held the finger between her teeth, he made no move to pull away.

“Of course, how could I forget how much I love when you try to eat my fingers? Really stirs a fire in my loins,” He growled, playfully nipping at her ear as he wrapped his arms around her, rolling atop her as she squealed gleefully. “It’s certainly _not_ because I love hearing you talk, or listening to the stories you tell, or being encouraged by a beautiful young woman.”

“You don’t even get most of my stories!”

“And?”

Twisting in his grasp, Devi smattered the older man’s face in sweet kisses, mirror forgotten when he kissed her back with the same fervor. Pulling away, Samson’s grin was absolutely devilish.

“I’m not finished with you yet.”

 

//

 

Despite being in their respective beds, both Krem and Charlie got the distinct feeling that they would not be seeing their counterparts in the morning.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a summary:
> 
> "samson slips is prendis i n 2 devi wagini.  
> "im luv u" he said, and he mean it  
> devi was stuburn but she lov him 2  
> "i lov y slugmin' she say and cume. he 2. the en"


	6. Little Reminders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Charlie has too much time to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning for self-harm for this chapter! It's not explicit or describing the act of, but it's talked about a lot.

_“Charlie...wake up.”_

 

Charlie had heard this story before. A man was knocked unconscious and, in the span of less than an hour, he’d developed a whole life for himself in his coma; a wife, a child, a nice house - the whole shebang. Then little things started looking out of place, as if they weren’t rendered right, a 2D object in a 4D plane. And it gnawed at him until one day, it just...stopped. He woke up. His life, his family, everything he’d developed for himself - gone.

 

She woke at the asscrack of dawn. Her room was quiet, the pale light of mountain morning seeping in through her cracked curtains. It was still entirely too large for, her quarters; if she were back home in Jersey, the floor would have been covered in clothes and papers and whatever other garbage she could find reason to hold on to. But she had nothing here, so...lucky her, she guessed.

 

_“Charlie…”_

 

“Shut up.”

 

And it did.

 

The notches on her legs itched. Sitting in her underwear, Charlie ran her fingers over the hundreds of little lines in her legs, cleaning the freshest one so it didn’t get infected. It wasn’t really a matter of hurting, it was a reminder of how long they’d been there, a fresh mark every day she could. She was thankful she scared easy, made the whole process less painful than it needed to be. Too afraid to cut too deep and all that.

 

But...that wasn’t only reason. Those scars were a note to herself that this was _real_ , every day of it. Each moment of pain was a flood of relief, because scary as it all was, it was _happening_ , this hasn’t just been 4 years of hallucinating.

 

...It wasn't, right?

 

Right?

 

//

“Are you alright, Dear Inquisitor?”

 

It was Dorian’s voice that snapped her out of her trance. She was in his little reading nook, snug in the plush chair Dorian kept for “important company” - i.e, her and Devi. Said Tevinter mage was across from her in a plush chair of his own, book in hand but curious eyes watching her from over the top of it.

 

Shaking her head slightly, Charlie shot her friend a small smile. “I’m fine, thanks.”

 

“You _do_ know that ‘I'm fine’ always translates to ‘I’m not fine at all, please help me,’ right?” His eyebrow was raised, voice pitching up to poorly imitate her, but she’d bet money that Dorian was hiding a worried frown behind that strategically placed book. Did she really look that bad?

 

“Do I really look that bad?” Charlie laughed, but it didn't sound like her. _Ah_ , she thought, _one of_ those _days, huh_?

 

Dorian scoffed, finally putting his book down to get a closer look at her. “Well, I _was_ going to just say ‘yes,’ but that poorly executed fake laugh brought it up to an ‘ _absolutely._ ’”

  
When she laughed again, it was more tired than anything. So, so tired. Dorian didn’t hide his frown that time around.   
  
“Charlie…” She waved her hand at his worried tone, resting a cheek on her fist.   
  
“It’s- it’s a lot, Dorian,” Charlie whispered, just as he made to say something. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”   
  
She heard him huff, settling back down in his seat in what she might be inclined to call defeat. But Dorian never let her win, so a draw, then. They stayed like that for a while, both picking up a book to cut the tension some. She ignored the feeling of her fresher cuts tingling beneath her trousers.   
  
“I won’t press you, my friend,” Dorian said, though when she peeked up, he hadn’t looked away from his reading. “But I will say this: you don’t have to shoulder your troubles alone. I like to think you see me as much a friend as I see you, and I’m not just here to look pretty.”   
  
“Well, you _are_ very pretty, Dorian.” She grinned, and jumped a little when he let out a bark of a laugh.

“Ha! It seems you’ve found my weakness!”  
  
“Compliments?”   
  
“The more exaggerated, the better.”  
  


Charlie would only tell him after their companions got her tipsy during Wicked Grace some time in the future, but she was very thankful for his friendship. She only hoped she could pay him in kind for tolerating her self-righteous on a regular basis; Devi was kind of required to, though she did so happily. Dorian, and the many others she’d met through the Inquisition for that matter? They were treasures to be held close.   
  


Her scars tingled, faint but enough to pull her from her thoughts. She let them be.

 

//

 

Charlie would only scratch at her scabs once she was tucked away in bed, rolled comfortably on her side. The knife she’d use was tucked away, nice and clean, waiting for morning when it was needed again. There was ointment on the nightstand by her bed, just in case she drew blood. It was a nightly ritual almost. It was certainly a sacred one.

 

Running her hands over the old, raised scars that covered the tops of her thighs, part of her actually felt a little embarrassed. How would she explain that to a lover if she took one? Would they think she was weird? There probably wasn’t therapy in Thedas, and they probably won’t (can’t) send an Inquisitor off for rehab or the like. The fact that she could think that at all was both a blessing and an omen. She never meant to get attached. Good things don’t happen when you get attached.

 

“ _Charlie, please! We’re begging! Wake up!_ ”   
  
“No more. Let me sleep, thanks.”

 

The cuts were not there to make her hurt. They were there to remind her of the days gone by, one cut for every day of the four years she found herself in a world not her own. She dug her fingers into her thighs. They were _not_ there to hurt - beyond Devi, beyond the Inquisition and Thedas and _everything,_ they were there to keep her grounded. Sane, even. But they did hurt, most times. And she was thankful.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while since i've written angst......but we'll be back to our regularly scheduled fluff and smut /reaaaal/ soon.


	7. Like a Two-Piece Locket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All things considered? Charlie can't say she regrets the last few years.

Charlie wants to believe that, had they not been thrown into a different dimension and forced to work together out of necessity and proximity, that she and Devi would have found each other anyways. Like it was just one of those things that was meant to be.

Devi keeps her grounded, keeps her sane. She doesn’t even really need to do anything but be there – just her presence is enough. In a world with a giant fucking hole in the sky and actual factual dragons, they are the only two who understand each other, if only because no one else possibly could. Without Devi, who would tease her about all her embarrassing habits, like doing idle animations or (“accidentally”) staring at Krem’s ass longer than socially acceptable? And without Charlie, who would get all of Devi’s pop culture references? Bull? He knows way too much, yeah, but not _interdimensional memes._

And how easy it could have been to just go, just leave or keep a safe distance – after all, she didn’t know this woman, didn’t know if this was all a part of her elaborate scheme, had no obligation to make nice with a stranger. She stayed simply because it made more sense – “stay with the seemingly harmless lady in the shack you both woke up in or die of dysentery or something similar in the woods” wasn’t really that hard a decision – and made nice because that’s just how she rolled. It was Devi who caught her standoffishness by the throat and chokeslammed it through the floorboards of their new home. It was Devi who gave her cute nicknames and reminisced about old times with her, even if none of those old times were spent together. It was Devi who made a shitty situation into an adventure.

Charlie realized quickly that this new place, where even the _concept_ of a phone had people looking at them like they were crazy, had nothing to do with it. In fact, she was _lucky_ for the circumstances being what they were; she could have just as easily ended up with some…asshole serial killer, and NOT someone who got her from the very beginning – who _she_ got from the very beginning. Devi Suri was very easily her best friend, in this world and their own.

…

Some nights, they’d sit on the battlements surrounding their fortress, whatever trouble was being stirred up in the tavern below as ambient noise, watching the stars shine brighter than they’d ever seen back home. Sometimes there’d be wine, expensive stuff taken from Charlie’s barely-touched stash, but they rarely ever drank enough to get drunk – too focused on ranting and cracking jokes and making up fake movies they think are in theaters in their original time. Most nights, it ended with Devi’s head on Charlie’s lap, Charlie’s own eyes struggling to stay open as she listened to the sounds of life below her, the people they swore to protect laughing and singing and telling stories.

All in all, they weren’t doing too bad for people who’d only technically been living there for what, four years? Thinking back, Devi had predicted as much earlier on – what was it she’d said? “’ _Point is, I think we’re gonna make it’_? _”_

“We will,” Charlie murmured to herself, letting sleep take her, even just for a little while. “We will.”


End file.
